We’ve had 45 in office now since January, and many of the same people are STILL attacking Hillary Clinton. Those same people (and others) are attacking our future as well (see “Kamala Harris”). These BernieBots and third-party voters and stay-at-homers, who through their actions gave us this toxic administration, are still trying to blame the woman who is no longer in public office.

What scares them so? Well, for one, no-one likes to admit they were wrong. Look at how many people said 45 and HRC were basically the same, and even with the truth staring them in the face, they cannot acknowledge they were wrong (see “more people than I can name”).

For two, I think they are afraid of the truth in Hillary’s book.

We’ve already heard some of it, and they are losing what’s left of their collective minds. But I think it is about.damn.time.

When we will be ready for a woman to be a full human being? To be right and wrong and honest and unkind and kind and forceful and lose her temper and NOT APOLOGIZE? I want to support that woman. I want that woman in office. Goddamn it, I want to BE that woman.

But that won’t happen in the current environment, and no, it is not because the women out there are not qualified, or not ready, or not whatever aspersion you try to cast because really, you just don’t want to vote for a woman. It won’t happen because we still think of women as “less than” and we try to prove that through the purity testing in which we engage. And no-one, not even Saint Sanders, can pass that test.

So, try something. Take, for example, Kristin Gillibrand, one of my Senators and a personal favorite. And change the name to Kevin. I bet, even if you don’t want to admit, that for a hot second you liked that person better. Try this any time you want to say about a woman “I would choose her if she only…”, and be honest with yourself if you would test a man the same way.

Like this:

My whole life, I’ve cared a lot about what people think of me. I’ve wanted to be liked. And I’ve tried and tried and tried to make that happen.

And you know what? It can’t be done, despite my best efforts. In the end, I’m still me, and people will like me (or not), respect me (or not), care for and about me (or not) based on both the person I am and the people they are.

Last November, a minority of Americans made a choice that could destroy us all. Last December, I turned fifty. And between those two events, it was like a switch flipped. I have no fucks left to give. That doesn’t mean I don’t care, just that I don’t care what the “they” think.

On our way to join the crowd.

In January, I marched in DC, despite my fears. My friends were there and made it possible.

At a rally (alone, yet!) on International Woman’s Day.

In February, I got the pink/purple streak in my hair that I hadn’t had since college.

At Gnostic Tattoo. A proud snowflake who will always “get back up”.

In March, I got some new ink – both personally and politically relevant to where my head is now.

And so far in April, I invited myself to an event just because, and had a lovely time. I experienced a public humiliation and got back up. When people ask me what I think, I tell them. Simply, directly, with no apologies and only a bit of fear.

Nothing’s really changed for the “they”, but everything has changed for me. It’s hard. It will stay hard. There are days I backslide. But I believe that in the end (and in the now) it is worth it.

And as I go forward, I will keep my fucks for myself. Not give them to the “they”.

Like this:

I have not written here much since the election. My disillusionment was too great. So I thanked Secretary Clinton for her awesome service and inspiration, celebrated as much as possible for my birthday and over the holidays, and thought about next steps. As so many of us are, I am writing and calling and showing up as often as possible to make it clear that this administration is just.not.okay.

But that’s not even what I am most angry about. What makes me so damn angry is the absolute denial of those who are still saying “but Hillary” and “Bernie would have”. You know what? The house is burning down here, and you are worried about a leaky faucet. Every single damn non-Republican who voted third party, or stayed home, or worse, voted for 45, brought this on us. And you need to own it. No more “Bernie would have won”. Or “the Primary was rigged”. Or “I just couldn’t vote for Hillary”. You screwed up. And you screwed up for all of us, not just yourself.

No candidate has ever been perfect – even Saint Sanders – but anyone who looked at HRC vs DJT and still did not vote for her is wearing blinders. And yes, it makes me angry every.damn.day. And no, I’m not going to stop saying so. I can actually be angry about this and still fight the fire you brought upon us.

And I will hold close to my heart and mind what Hillary said, in that wonderful speech that she was forced to give after you stole the Presidency from the only qualified candidate in the race:

“Please never stop believing that fighting for what’s right is worth it.”

I know that not winning this election is probably one of the hardest, if not the hardest, things you have ever survived, but that you ran, and that you are clearly surviving, helps me. It helps all of us.

Thank you for setting the example that a woman in the United States can go further than we believed – for fulfilling a large part of my childhood dream. At my age, I have lost most of the strong, loving women who raised me. Thank you for being there when I needed to know there are still those women “raising” us.

Thank you for showing the world, for so many years, what a smart, talented, professional woman looks like, even if they refused to see.

Thank you for being imperfect, but still fighting on. We are all imperfect, and your courage as you dealt with consequences gives me courage.

I will always be with you, and as the amazing Amy Ferris wrote, in many ways, I am you, but this may sum up my next steps best – I wrote it on Facebook shortly after the election:

Dear friends:

This may anger some of you, and I admit I am still processing what our country has done to itself. But no, I will not join in with the #NotOurPresident chant. Do you remember when that charge was leveled against our current President? Do you remember how it deepened the divide?

The divide in this country is clear. I do not think any of us really saw it for what it is, and we need to work hard going forward not only to mend fences, but to prevent our President-elect and those around him from making it worse with the type of policies he outlined in his campaign.

Taking to the streets, but without a plan to action, can be incredibly satisfying, and I would never say not to do so. But I will say that without a plan, such energy often dissipates quickly and leaves more bitterness behind. I wrote much the same about my concerns during the Democratic primary, and it boils down to one sentence: Revolutions are hard fucking work.

I am ready to do that work. I hope you are too.

You helped me see the necessity of those words, while still fighting the good fight. And while I feel sad and scared and angry, you showed me we can go on.

Like this:

There are lots of things in our world today that are frightening, but you know, you can’t worry all the time. And many of them, I personally can’t do anything about. For example, I can’t stop a shooter from attacking a school, or a mall, or a movie theater. I can’t stop a bomber from planting his “creations” in a public area. And this might surprise you, but I can’t control the weather.

What scares me the most right now, though, is something I can fight. It may be futile (though I don’t think so), but I can use my meager contributions and my voice and my vote to fight against a lying, racist, misogynist bully from becoming the President of the United States.

I’ve written before about my support of Hillary Clinton and why I’m not going to argue the same tired GOP talking points any more. But I’ve pretty much avoided talking about her opponent. However, as we get closer to the actual election, he scares me more every day. I’ve read some research that claims the candidate of a major party will basically always pull 40% of the vote – that’s their “floor” – but that does not help my fear of the Republican candidate. And isn’t that a terrifying thought on its own?

If somehow you’ve had your head in the sand, Keith Olbermann provided this handy-dandy guide to many of the shocking moments of this election cycle.

If you’re not scared of the Republican candidate, I’m scared for you. If you’re still holding onto to the idea that your conscience is somehow better than mine, and you are choosing to vote for a third-party candidate (even in a so-called “safe state”), I’m scared for you. If you are so apathetic (or something), that you will not be voting in the Presidential race, I’m scared for you. The damage you will be doing will reach far beyond your personal bubble.

And if instead of being scared, you are choosing to vote for the Republican candidate for President, I just might be scared of you.

Like this:

Enough already. #ImWithHer, and your nasty attacks, your unwillingness to look at the truth and consequences of the lies you are spreading, your lack of interest in facts will NOT change my mind.

#ImWithHer not because she’s the “lesser of two evils”. And not even because I’m afraid of Trump, though any thinking person should be.

#ImWithHer and I am voting FOR her. For an incredibly smart, qualified, honorable, human being. With flaws and strengths, like every human being. Who has shown us in every way possible that she cares – not about her own ego, but about this country and its people. All of us.

And yes, whose gender is the same as mine.

Do NOT talk to me about Benghazi. There has been more loss with less interest under the last several Presidents. While I could write paragraphs about it, I won’t. So just don’t.

Do NOT talk to me about the Clinton Foundation, or the Clinton Family Foundation. You do not have to like where they get their funding, but until and unless there is illegal action, get over it.

Do NOT talk to me about her email. I do not care what you think. The only authority that matters – the one, you know, that actually did the investigation and has all the information, concluded there was no case. Done. You can disagree, but in fact, I do not care.

Do NOT quote Michael Moore at me. I mean, really, WTF, Michael?

Do NOT try to tell me how I must discuss her, how I must read your crappy right-wing website or watch Fox News. Assume I have done my research, as I assume you have done yours. I’m still stunned at your conclusions, but I imagine you feel the same way.

And especially, DO NOT TALK TO ME ABOUT HER DEMEANOR. OR HER PRESENTATION. OR HER “LOOK”. Just fucking DO NOT.

I’m so tired.

Because the battle every woman fights every day has been magnified and thrown on the screen for our review, and so many are ignoring it, and ignoring the inherent sexism in pillorying this woman for things we never discuss when a man does them. And then claiming there is no problem.

Because it is 2016, and there are still “firsts” for people of color, and women, and all the groups we dismissively call “minorities”.

Because we are never quite good enough. Just not the “right” woman. But hey, you know, thanks for playing.

So give it a rest. Give me a rest. No, I will not “know my place”. No, I will not wait until you are satisfied. Just no.

The time is now, and #ImWithHer.

(And just because it’s a great compilation of important information, read this.)

When I was in elementary school, I had my first encounters with politics. I remember Nixon’s resignation (I was seven), and I remember Shirley Chisholm’s campaign for President (though I was five). By the time I was nine, I thought I wanted a career in politics. I was going to be the first female President. I was going to finish what Shirley started. I kept a notebook full of ideas – I wish I could find it – and this morning, I even texted my cousin, who still teases me about that notebook, to remind her of my early ambitions.

Clearly my life went in a different direction. At about the same time I was keeping that notebook, I saw my first “grown-up” theater – a production of Othello at the Coconut Grove Playhouse, starring the incomparable Samuel E. Wright. By the end of the play, I had moved to the front row of the almost empty theater, and was weeping non-stop. (Note: I finally met Sam in 1997, and yes, I told him my being in the business was all.his.fault.)

However, it was always still in the back of my mind – and often the front – that there are glass ceilings to be shattered, and I got so frustrated anytime a woman was the “first” anything. Shouldn’t these firsts be done by now? Shouldn’t we working toward being the “best”, not the “first”, instead?

Full disclosure: I did not support Hillary Clinton in 2008, and in fact, I was not a registered Democrat until last year, when I switched from being a life-long Independent. To vote, I thought at the time, for Bernie Sanders (see, it was possible to change your registration and vote in a closed primary. Even in New York State!). But over the course of this primary, it became clear to me that supporting Hillary was not only right for me (and my vagina), but the best thing for the country that I love.

As I said here, revolutions are hard fucking work. And Hillary can and will do that work. She is the revolution. She is “change we can believe in”. She is everything I once wanted to be, but so.much.better.